The lines on your pupils mark Jupiter's Landscapes
Your soul is a cosmic journey
Your ascension is the sun, where every being draws love and rejuvenation from your glow
Your curves are the pyramids that home Pharaohs and Goddess while they rest
Your tongue moves with gusts that toss rubies into the sky
Your skin is soft and is the colour of my imagination

And in your mind

Sculptures are moulded and music is created
Memories find refuge and old souls laugh
And there are nameless graves.
And caves and mountains and galaxies to explore.
You are Landscapes
That ground existence and home the unwanted. You tell your ancient stories of the first hour glass to be turned by the hands of what was more than man.

You are Landscapes.